


Give me not Gold

by IdunAurora



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Carpenter Yuuri, Day 1, Historical, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Prince Victor Nikiforov, Victuuriweek2018, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdunAurora/pseuds/IdunAurora
Summary: "No, thank you, sir. Please, send it back."The guard gaped at the carpenter, holding the small, elaborately decorated chest in front of him, opened to showcase a beautiful necklace of gold and rubies. The young man before him could barely have had enough expenses to get a slice of bread on the table, and he was... he was......he wasrefusing the prince's gift?Or, the universe where Yuuri the carpenter has had enough of the gold and jewels that Prince Viktor keeps sending him, when he would very much prefer His Royal Idiot to just show up empty-handed and stay close to him forever instead.Written for VictuuriWeek2018 day 1, AU: Historical. With a dash of fairy-tale vibes because I'm a folklorist at heart and can't help myself.





	Give me not Gold

There was no denying the fact that Prince Viktor of the noble House Nikiforov was, for lack of a more suitable word, bored.

Bored beyond belief.

In fact, he was so bored that he found watching the grass grow to be more interesting than listening to his teacher ramble on and on about the history of the noble House Nikiforov. Watching the grass grow, however, would require him to be outside and not in the library, and Viktor had the miserable suspicion that once he actually got around to going outside to watch the grass grow, he would find that to be boring beyond belief, too.

“Your Highness, please pay attention.”

_No, thank you_ , Viktor thought as he lazily turned his head to give his teacher a dull look. The old man was redder in the face than a ripe tomato, his hair visibly thinning on his head as he presumably tried reigning himself in and not scream at Viktor.

Right, he should probably have listened.

Too bad he absolutely couldn’t be bothered in the slightest.

“We’re done for today, Yakov.” He yawned, stretching his long limbs and twirling a lock of silver hair around his finger absentmindedly as he stood up from his seat, ignoring the way Yakov looked like he was about combust. “I’m going to take a walk in the garden.”

He scarcely noticed Yakov, losing composure, hissing something about “ungrateful little brat” as he exited the study. It was probably directed at him, Viktor figured.

Walking through his mother’s rose garden, and having decided that watching the grass grow was only marginally less boring than listening to Yakov’s ramblings, Viktor stopped by the castle wall and looked up, squinting in the sunlight. Birds flew over the wall without hindrance, unable to decide if they liked the royal gardens or the outside world better, with the woods and the quaint little village just out of Viktor’s reach.

Well, not exactly. He could leave the castle and ride to the village if he wished.

He just wasn’t allowed to do so without at least two guards escorting him, which he found utterly ridiculous. He was twenty-two, ripe marrying age for royals, and he should be allowed to come and go as he pleased.

Another bird flew out of the bushes behind him and over the castle wall. Coming and going as it pleased.

…so why couldn’t Viktor do so, too?

 

**

 

There was no denying the fact that Yuuri Katsuki, a foreigner in the northern lands trying to make a living as a carpenter far away from home, was tired.

Exceedingly exhausted, truth be told.

It was a terribly exhausted Yuuri that dragged himself to The Fat Pig late in the evening, politely asking for a pint of ale as he slumped down onto something that vaguely resembled a chair. Moments later, it was a terribly embarrassed Yuuri that was faced with the nerve-racking challenge of explaining to the barmaid that brought him the pint that no, he wasn’t interested in her sitting down in his lap.

And even less interested in heading upstairs with her.

The girl pouted at him, “You waitin’ for company, eh?” she asked, curious.

Yuuri made a split-second decision.

“N-, yes, yes I am.” He nodded, even though it was a blatant lie and he definitely wasn’t expecting any company at all. “They should arrive soon.”

The girl looked disappointed when she accepted the copper coin Yuuri handed her and left to tend to other costumers. Breathing out an internal sigh of relief, and externally sighing heavily in exhaustion, Yuuri gulped down some ale and then resolved to just stare at the pint for a moment. The drink held a distinct taste of piss diluted with misery, which suited him just fine.

There was no room for him to be picky. He had been lucky enough to have had enough clients since he arrived in the northern lands that he had managed to build himself a small cabin by the edge of the woods in the village he had decided to settle down in.

It had been the most quiet one around, and with the most friendly people in it. Also the one with the most people that needed and could afford his services. Really, it had been an easy pick in the end.

Still, there were days when Yuuri cursed his wanderlust. Days when he thought about what could have been if he hadn’t left his own home village, if he had stayed with his sister to take care of the inn their parents had dedicated their lives to. Days where he wondered how Mari was doing, and there was no way for him to know.

The past day had been one of those days, and as night fell, Yuuri had been hit hard in the gut with a fist of Homesickness, and hence decided to drown his sorrows in equally sad alcohol. Gods, he missed Hasetsu. Missed the inn, missed his parents (even though they hadn’t been around for about four years), missed Mari, Yuuko, Takeshi, Minako…

“Excuse me, are you awaiting company?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri replied absentmindedly without even checking if the voice was talking to him, to someone else, or if it was a hallucination, “I’m waiting for Tomorrow, have you seen them?”

It was a small, amused chuckle that brought Yuuri up and out of his Pool of Self-Pity to blink at the hooded figure gracefully sitting down in front of him. Due to the dark hood, Yuuri could barely make out the stranger’s features, but what he did see had his heart skipping a beat and butterflies erupting in his stomach.

Porcelain skin as smooth as silk. Eyes as blue as a clear midday sky, glittering with amusement.

“Why such a rush for tomorrow?” Beautiful Stranger asked curiously, tilting his head.

Unfortunately, Yuuri had forgotten how to speak.

 

Adorable, adorable, _adorable!_

When Viktor had stepped into the pub (after sneaking out of the castle and through the gate when the guards switched posts and then stealthily made his way to the village), he had immediately spotted the young man wallowing in misery in the corner. He had looked like the world was about to end, raven hair in an unruly state and brown eyes tired and sunken, dark circles telling of too much work and too little rest.

But when the boy’s eyes met Viktor’s, there was a spark of glimmering curiosity in them that had him drawn in faster than a moth is attracted to a flame.

Then again, the boy appeared to have forgotten how to speak. Viktor allowed the smile tugging at the corners of his lips to spread on his face, and that had clearly been the right decision, as it snapped the boy out of whatever state of muteness he had suffered from moments before.

“Oh, uh…” he fidgeted a little, suddenly looking a bit nervous, and Viktor had to hold back a squeal of delight, “…tomorrow arriving means today will end. And I’d like for today to end.”

Viktor tapped a finger to his lips in contemplation, “Well, maybe today can still end on a good note, don’t you think?” he held out his hand over the table, having taken care to take off all his jewelry so he wouldn’t draw attention to the silver, gold and gems usually decorating his fingers and wrists, “I’m Viktor.”

It was a fairly common name, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if the boy would link it directly to-

“Oh, like the prince?” the young man blinked as he lifted his hand to shake Viktor’s, and Viktor merely nodded in confirmation, hoping it only seemed like he was a bit proud to have the same name as royalty, “I’m Yuuri.”

_Yuuri_.

“Yuuri,” Viktor tried aloud, unable to resist tasting the name on his tongue, relishing in the endearing way a hint of a blush spread on Yuuri’s cheeks because of it, “were you waiting for someone here tonight? I would loath to be in the way.”

“O-oh,” Yuuri shook his head, eyes widening slightly as he cast a nervous glance around them, “no, I’m not. But I told the maid I was.”

Intrigued, Viktor’s smile turned smug, “Seems like a good thing I showed up, then.” He said, coaxing a small, embarrassed laugh out of Yuuri, much to his satisfaction. “But why would you lie to a pretty girl like that, Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s cheeks blossomed a marvelous color of rose red, and Viktor should probably have been more concerned about his heartbeat quickening and the fact that his stomach was doing flips without his consent than he was. _Should_ being the keyword, as he really had no time nor space to be concerned about it in the slightest.

The boy reached for his pint and downed some more of the (frankly appallingly-smelling) drink it contained, wrinkling his nose in distaste and casting his gaze down.

“…she thought I sought… _company_.” He muttered. “And I told her I didn’t. That I was waiting for someone. Because I wasn’t interested.”

It took Viktor an embarrassingly long moment to figure out what Yuuri actually meant, but when he did, he found himself blushing at the thought.

“Oh,” he murmured when it dawned on him, seeing more than hearing the exhale escaping Yuuri’s lungs, chest deflating, “I see.” He then tilted his head, smiling at the thought that Yuuri had allowed him to sit down and keep him company, preferring his presence over a curvy barmaid. Something about it made his heart swell.

Maybe he would dare…?

“Could I perhaps…” he tried, attempting to sound more confident than he was, meeting Yuuri’s gaze as he tilted his head up to look at him, “…interest you in a different pastime than barmaids and alcohol, then?”

There was a mix of disbelief and curiosity in dark chestnut eyes, and Viktor held his breath. Yuuri merely looked at him, stared, for what felt like forever. He hummed, downing the last of his ale and placing the pint down on the rough, wooden table with finality.

“What do you propose?”

 

**

 

Yuuri couldn’t remember ever having as much fun in his life.

Perhaps it wasn’t saying that much, as his life really hadn’t been that fun or particularly interesting, but he was _living_ , and it thrilled him as much as it ate at his nerves. He ignored the latter, focusing on the slight buzz of alcohol under his skin and Viktor’s tingling laugh that made his heart flutter.

Somewhere in the back of Yuuri’s mind, he imagined his mother to be turning over in her grave if she were to find out what he was doing. That he was walking in the darkness of the nighttime woods with a stranger, whom he had brought there himself and was leading along the path. Holding said stranger’s hand because Viktor had accidentally gotten lost twice already.

Viktor’s hand, that had been cold when Yuuri determinedly had taken hold of it, was warming up in his own, and the grip was firm, tight. Like he was afraid they would be separated should he not hold on tightly enough.

It only made more butterflies sprout in Yuuri’s stomach.

Finally, he spotted the clearing he had been aiming for and slowed his pace as they entered it.

“I like this place.” He murmured, feeling a little sheepish at the urge to somehow explain to Viktor why he had brought them there. Viktor, however, only squeezed his hand a little tighter, admiring the soft, mossy forest floor surrounded by all the pine and spruce and rocks, and then the downright magical view of the nocturnal sky, stars glimmering like silvery pearls on the velvet backdrop.

“Wow.” He whispered. Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat at the breathlessness of his voice.

“Y-yeah.” He quietly agreed. “Um…” he fidgeted a little as blue eyes turned to look at him, “…it’s even better like this.”

Relieved to be surrounded by darkness with only the light of the moon and the stars aiding their sight, because surely Yuuri’s cheeks were glowing bright red, he gently coaxed Viktor down onto the forest floor with him, laying down side by side to look up at the sky. Viktor let out a delighted, breathless laugh.

“It is.”

And then, Yuuri’s vision of the midnight sky was obscured by an ocean of starlight as Viktor hovered above him, eyes shimmering in the dark.

“You may forgive me for being forward, Yuuri,” he murmured, carefully placing a hand on his cheek, stroking it with his thumb, surely feeling more than seeing Yuuri’s burning blush, “but unless you would think ill of me… I would wish to kiss you.”

Words failed him.

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat instead.

Yes, please, Yuuri very much wanted to be kissed. Especially by a handsome stranger in the woods in the dark of the night. And Viktor was oh so terribly beautiful and his laugh was like silver bells and…

He managed a nod. No words came to him, but he nodded, and hoped it would be enough.

Viktor smiled, the smile turning just a little nervous before he leaned in. He paused a breath away from Yuuri’s lips, silently asking for consent one more time, giving him time to think and to stop Viktor should he want to.

But Yuuri didn’t want Viktor to stop.

So he closed the gap between them himself, self-conscious about the fact that he probably tasted like that horrible pint of murky water mixed with the tears of widows, but Viktor didn’t seem to mind, not if the way he coaxed Yuuri’s mouth open to deepen the kiss was any indication. It had Yuuri melting in his embrace, heart soaring in his chest.

He never wanted the night to end.

He wondered if Viktor was thinking the same.

 

**

 

Unfortunately, the night did all too soon come to an end, and not in the way Viktor wanted it to. Sure, it could have been much worse, but really, it was No Good.

He felt like he was floating, a spring in his step that hadn’t been there before as he exited the woods hand in hand with Yuuri (Yuuri, _Yuuri_ ), who was smiling. Well, sure, Viktor was smiling, too, but Yuuri was smiling the most beautiful smile he had ever beheld, and Viktor’s heart was about to burst at the sheer force of breathtaking that it was.

And then, his mood went from joyous to confused to furious in the span of a bird’s wing flapping.

“Halt!” came a sharp demand, and with it followed four soldiers wearing very familiar uniforms, surrounding them.

Viktor, who of course recognized the uniforms as the ones worn by their own Royal Guard, didn’t lose either his voice or his anger when Yuuri instead went dead silent and rigid beside him. It only fueled his rage further.

“What is the meaning of this?” he spat as one of the guards seized him by the arm and another one took hold of Yuuri’s, almost but not quite managing to yank them apart due to Viktor’s death grip on Yuuri’s hand.

The grip on _his_ arm also _hurt_ , and he was less than happy about it.

“These woods belong to the royal family and to His Majesty the king.” The guard in charge stated, and Viktor’s blood boiled. “You’ve been trespassing.”

Yuuri looked like he had seen a ghost, all color gone from his face as he stood stock still, hand trembling slightly in Viktor’s.

Viktor was _livid_.

With the fleeting thought that he would have to explain himself to Yuuri afterwards, he made the only decision he actually could. He gave Yuuri’s hand a squeeze, then released it in favor of pulling off his hood.

The cat had to be let out of the bag.

“Release him _at once!_ ”

The guard holding Viktor’s arm let go off him as if he had been burnt. Yuuri was released a heartbeat later, expression going from fear to shock, jaw slackening in surprise as he stared at Viktor.

Had Yuuri looked like he had seen a ghost, though, the guard in charge looked like he was about to turn into one on the spot.

“You-, Your Highness!” he managed in a terrified squeak, kneeling so quickly it looked like his knees had given out, and the three others followed, “Your Highness, you should not be here in the night alone-“

“I’m not alone.” Viktor reminded him coldly, causing the guard to flinch.

“Please, Your Highness, the king and the queen worry about you-“

“And I worry about the safety of our people if those who are supposed to _protect_ them are exploiting their positions.” He hissed back, shutting the guard up. “These woods are under the _protection_ of the Royal family, but not our property, meaning my companion here hasn’t been trespassing anything. The only ones who have been trespassing anything are _you_.”

Three out of four guards looked like they were ready for the earth to swallow them whole and bury them six feet under, while the fourth, the one who hadn’t actually done anything, merely looked down on the ground in shame. Viktor reached a decision.

“So, what you’re going to do is escort me back to the castle, to my parents, where you will tell them what you have done, and I will tell them what I have seen, and you will face the consequences of your actions in a way they see fit.”

“You,” he then turned to the guard who had seemed reluctant to the whole ordeal from the beginning, making the man’s head snap up dutifully, “what’s your name?”

The guard swallowed thickly, but held Viktor’s gaze, “Dmitrei, Your Highness.”

“Dmitrei, summon three guards you would trust with your life and do what you were supposed to be doing in the first place.”

The guard’s eyes widened, but he quickly regained composure, bowing, “As soon as I have escorted you back to the palace as told, Your Highness.”

“Excellent.” Viktor gave the other three a cold look. “Now, give us that privacy we had that you unwarrantedly and disrespectfully bereaved of us.”

He chose harsh words very intentionally.

The guards scrambled to obey when Viktor finally turned to Yuuri, linking their hands together. Wide eyes, charcoal in the darkness, were staring at him in shock, and when Viktor felt Yuuri’s hand twitch slightly in his own, as if Yuuri was fighting an urge to pull away, he had to find his tongue quickly:

“This was perhaps not how I had intended to reveal my identity to you,” he said softly, lifting Yuuri’s hands to place kisses on the back of them, mourning the darkness as he was certain Yuuri was blushing, “but now you know, and that’s just as well. I’m sorry I hid it from you, but you must know that none of what I’ve shared with you tonight has been a lie. None at all.” He took a deep breath.

“I snuck out because I wished to visit the town on my own and see the people for myself, up close, not from the back of a horse or from inside a carriage. And when I saw you at the pub…” he smiled, genuine, hoping Yuuri could tell (they were close enough that he should be able to), “…I knew… I somehow knew it was you I wanted to talk to. Get to know. Not because you were alone or because you looked down, but because there was… _something_ about you that drew me in.”

He leaned in to kiss Yuuri’s cheek, relieved when Yuuri didn’t flinch.

“Prince or not, I’m still just… me. Just Viktor.”

_That_ seemed to do the trick, because the words sparked something in Yuuri’s glowing charcoal eyes. Even though he could barely see it, he marveled at the way Yuuri’s lips tugged into a small, small smile, features softening.

His hands tightened their grip on Viktor’s ever so slightly.

“I like just Viktor.”

Then, before he could react properly, Yuuri had tilted his head up to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips before letting go, a twinkle in his eye the last thing Viktor had the time to register before he took off into a sprint, running back towards the town. The darkness soon swallowed him up while Viktor’s heart continued pounding hard against his ribcage, butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach.

He couldn’t let Yuuri go just like that.

Hence, he wasn’t going to.

 

**

 

“No, thank you, sir. Please, send it back.”

The guard gaped at the carpenter in the doorway, holding the small, elaborately decorated chest in front of him, opened to showcase a beautiful necklace of gold and rubies. The young man before him could barely have enough expenses to get a slice of bread on the table, and he was… he was…

…he was _refusing the prince’s gift?_

Shifting his weight, the guard attempted to steel himself. The prince had told him specifically that he needed to treat the carpenter with utmost respect, and there was no way he was going to disobey a direct order from His Royal Highness.

However, he had also been told specifically to deliver the gift to the carpenter, and that part was proving exceedingly difficult.

“Please, my good sir,” he tried, bowing his head a little in hope to appease the young craftsman, “it is a precious gift, given for me to deliver to you from Prince Viktor himself. He had it carefully selected just for you.” He looked pleadingly at the carpenter, who looked… very nice, actually. Disregarding the wood dust covering most of him, even having gotten stuck in his hair. “The prince would be delighted if you were to accept it, sir.”

The carpenter gave him an utterly unimpressed glare, and the guard faltered. He was slowly beginning to see what the prince might have set his eyes on, see why he had been drawn to the foreigner like the moon to the tide. There was something undeniably thrilling about the way he held himself, about the way he seemed to effortlessly be able to make any man fall to his knees to beg for mercy.

Which the guard was just about ready to do, and the carpenter had scarcely spoken at all.

Then, the young man reached out a hand and promptly closed the chest with finality.

“If that is so, then please tell His Highness that I do not accept the gift.” He stated firmly, and the guard’s heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. “If the Prince wants something, he might as well show up himself.”

The guard gaped at him, shocked by the boldness, but he quickly composed himself. Respect, he remembered. Hence, he gulped and attempted to tread carefully:

“My good sir, Prince Viktor is a busy man-“

“And he knows where I live.” The carpenter interrupted him mid-sentence.

Before shutting the door right in his face.

The following six guards that attempted to bring the carpenter increasingly expensive and increasingly lavish gifts from Prince Viktor failed increasingly spectacularly.

 

**

 

_Knock, knock, knock!_

When there was a knock on the door for the hundredth time in the span of a week, Yuuri was just about ready to explode in exasperation.

“ _Go awa_ y!” he yelled, annoyed, just like he had done for the past four days.

“Yuuri, please, open the door.”

He stilled in his movements. His heart skipped a beat, but a frown settled on his face nevertheless.

Viktor had taken quite long enough.

And when he opened the door to find the prince standing there in all his royal glory, holding yet another one of those infuriating _chests_ , Yuuri really had to reign himself hard not to deepen his frown or just scream in frustration.

Viktor, beautiful, _beautiful_ Viktor, looked breathtaking in his blue and silver colors, long silver hair properly braided and golden crown resting on his head. Yuuri really wanted nothing more than to pull him in, throw the chest to the depths of Hell and kiss him until tomorrow forever, but that wasn’t going to happen there and then. No matter how good he looked.

Still… he could humor him a bit, couldn’t he? And himself, too, surely.

It wasn’t as if Yuuri didn’t want Viktor to be there, or for him to return. He just wanted him to _understand_.

Hence, he allowed the feeling of happiness he felt a flicker of in his heart express itself on his face, offering a smile.

“What took you so long?”

 

Viktor let out an internal sigh of relief the moment a smile settled on Yuuri’s lips. He smiled back, taking in the sight of him in daylight for the first time, admiring the way his chestnut eyes seemed infinitely warm, the softness of his smile, the light sprinkle of wood dust clinging to his charcoal locks.

_Beautiful_.

“Well, I _am_ trying to learn how to rule.” He apologized with a sheepish grin. “But still, I wanted to do as you asked, and so I came here to give you this in person.”

And that might have been the sound of Viktor’s heart dropping to the deepest circle of Hell, because Yuuri’s smile fell at his words, his eyes darkening.

Had… had he said something wrong? He had said something wrong. What had he said wrong?

“Oh.” Was all Yuuri said.

It left Viktor at a complete loss. The guards had told him Yuuri wished for him to come in person, and he had done that, so…

“So, um…” he still tried, wishing more and more for Mother Earth to swallow him whole and end his existence, because Yuuri was frowning and he _hated_ it, “…would you accept it?”

The glare he got in response was a hard kick in the stomach.

And yet, there was something tugging at the corner of Yuuri’s mouth-

“No.”

Viktor could only stare, crestfallen and mouth agape, as he suddenly found himself face to face with Yuuri’s door.

That… that hadn’t gone very well.

 

**

 

Yuuri wanted to cry. Or scream. Or laugh. All at once.

Honestly, he really didn’t know _what_ he wanted to do any longer. Rip his hair out seemed like a suitable option.

Or just ram himself into a rockface repeatedly, because Viktor, the man of Yuuri’s dreams who was beautiful and kind and amazing, was a _massive idiot_.

Hence, while there was little Yuuri wanted in the world more than to jump straight into the Prince’s arms every time he appeared at his doorstep with yet another _completely unnecessary_ gift, he was intent on getting his point across. The problem being that it would all be pointless if Viktor didn’t figure it out himself.

He had become increasingly creative, Yuuri had to give him that much. He had never sent a guard ever again but instead visited himself, in person (at times without an escort, Yuuri had noted to his well-hidden surprise), every gift more lavish than the one before to the point where Yuuri wasn’t sure if it was ridiculous, ludicrous, or just downright nonsensical. Necklaces, silk garments, a golden tiara adorned with diamonds, jewels and pearls and precious metals and…

…and whatever. Yuuri honestly couldn’t remember, and he honestly didn’t _care_.

Every day, Viktor showed up with something new, and every day, Yuuri turned down his gift. Even the horse, which was the only one he had actually (reluctantly) been remotely interested in.

Because Yuuri didn’t _want_ any gifts (except maybe the horse), and he needed for Viktor to understand that.

Needed him to understand that there was something he wanted far, far more dearly than anything else in the world.

 

**

 

Viktor ran.

His legs were screaming at him before he even got halfway, but he really had no time to think about the slight inconvenience for the time being. Neither did he have time to think about the fact that he probably looked like he had risen from the dead, hair loose and all over the place, cape forgotten in the hands of his gaping servant, crown left God knew where.

That he had forgotten he owned a horse that he could have used to get to his destination faster made him curse under his breath, but there was no time to head back to get the steed. He had no time to care about it. He had no time to care about _any_ of it.

The only thing he did care about was getting to Yuuri as fast as possible, and preferably yesterday.

_Immediately_.

His eyes were stinging and his lungs were burning when he reached the carpenter’s cabin, but instead of stopping to catch his breath, Viktor ran straight to the door and knocked fervently. He was sweaty, he was only half-dressed, and there were probably dark circles beneath his eyes as he had spent most of the nights that had passed with tears of frustration streaming down his cheeks. A breath caught in his throat and he had to cough, chest heaving.

“Yuuri, please…”

The door swung open.

Yuuri’s eyes widened as they fell on Viktor, taking in his disheveled state, but Viktor only gave him half a heartbeat to do so before lunging forward, wrapping his arms tightly around him, burying his face into his neck.

To his utter astonishment, he swore he could feel Yuuri’s lips slowly stretch into a smile, and he almost hiccoughed as Yuuri embraced him in turn, heart surging up from the deepest, darkest pits of his stomach towards the skies in relief as Yuuri relaxed in his arms.

“What do you want, Yuuri?” he whispered, because he needed to hear Yuuri say it, needed that final confirmation that he had understood at last.

Yuuri nuzzled his neck, and Viktor’s heart fluttered.

“I don’t need gold and jewels and silk clothes.” He murmured. “Just Viktor. Just stay close to me.”

Viktor sniffled, but the tears that rolled down his cheeks to stain Yuuri’s shirt were, for the first time in days, happy ones. A laugh bubbled in his chest and he let it out, pulling Yuuri impossibly closer, impossibly tighter.

“I will.” He promised, relishing the feeling of an enormous weight lifting off his shoulders. “Marry me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri stilled momentarily. Viktor pulled back a little to get a look at his face, finding wide, chestnut eyes and soft lips parted in shocked amazement. The logical thing to do, of course, was to ramble on:

“I mean, you don’t want gold and jewels and silk clothes, but you wish to stay close to me, and I do wish to stay close to you, too, so instead of offering all those things you don’t want I would offer myself-, Yuuri! No, no, don’t cry, I’m sorry-!”

“Yes!” Yuuri croaked, burying his face in his hands for a heartbeat, Viktor calming down again as he found the tears to be accompanied with a smile, “Yes, I’ll marry you. I want to. Wish to.” He sniffled, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his shirt before shaking his head to compose himself. “But now…” he grabbed Viktor’s hand, leaning up to place a sweet kiss on his lips, one that had Viktor chasing him and Yuuri giggling.

“Now what, my husband-to-be?” Viktor grinned, feeling ridiculously happy and relieved and overwhelmed all at once, his entire universe standing right in front of him, holding his hand and kissing him like tomorrow would never arrive.

Yuuri’s blush blossomed beautifully on his cheeks, but his smile never faded.

“Now, take a walk with me, my husband-to-be,” he echoed Viktor’s words, pecking his cheek, “and I might reconsider your offer on that horse.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote some things for VictuuriWeek2018 during winterbreak, and I don't know if I'll have time editing the ones that I haven't had the time to edit yet, but the aim is to post a story a day. I started publishing YOI-works during VictuuriWeek last year so I thought I'd try again...
> 
> This one has its roots in a folktale (where some prince has a hard time understanding that he can't buy love and the princess marries a farmer's boy in the end instead because she's fed up - and there are at least a million versions of it), and I've always been weak for this kind of trope in fanfiction, too, so... it happened.
> 
> See you tomorrow with something... completely different.


End file.
